#the_eccentrics

[steven979]

Perineum ( S.A.B.)

The ripe age of midlife, yet skin as soft as silk;

He bears his home to me, like a warm dinner to, a very hungry man;

Cheeks as soft as la crème glacée, I melt as I make my plate;

He welcomed me into his home, his life, himself;

As I wonder, I reflect back to the gift sent to me, to come home.

That silk valley, his perineum, is waiting on my, tongue.

[steven979]

Written: 9/29/16 Posted : 2/25/17

[steven979]

[steven979]

N. (S.A.B.)

Who am I to tell a man what to die for?

Bronze skin so soft to the touch, can send a man to the moon;

Who am I to tell a man how to hide love in plain sight?

The same sun that kisses my skin, has kissed your beautiful face;

You served him, and he lay there, and sent your blood rushing;

You are bare, and open, and easily unrobed by me, as well as he;

Who am I to tell your heart, to not function the same?

I can only love you, the same, be safe, my love.

[steven979]

The photo I shared was of my chest, and stomach, to personalize my expression. I have always been shamed for having male breast, and faced assumptions of my now flatter chest being for the male gaze; not for the love of myself for myself. I see that any post of my chest flat or not, will be flagged for adult material. I feel someone keeps flagging my post, and just my post to not see MY body specifically because I am a man. I celebrate everyone's post either way as my response to that negativity.

[steven979]

Sun's Out: a Love Letter. (S.A.B.)

I can practically,

taste the chilled Prosecco;

the heat of the sun, bronzing our skin,

the ocean air, seeping into our lungs;

I can hear the joy of men, laughing, free,

As their treats frollock along the shoreline,

Oh, how I love my men seasoned well, with salt and pepper,

a treat to the eye and for the soul;

free, among our nakedness;

unbound, by the wants and needs of others, thank you.

[steven979]

Do the Birds still Sing for You? (S.A.B.)

Old man, Old man,

Do the birds still sing for you?

Sweet man, sweet man,

Do you still leave bread crumbs to follow?

Blind sir, blind sir,

Can you still see yourself as the world does?

[steven979]

A Small Diner in Austin, Tx.

 I grasp my old leather Jacket over my hoodie as I step out. I can feel the gust of cold air kiss my face as I start my journey, off to a morning coffee for break. The crisp cold snap of Autumn caressing my kneck at six in the morning has always stirred me. Tuscan light illuminates the parking lot as I stare at the traffic begining to pick up on Burnett street. My chest flutters as I take in the fact that I am an hour and 15 minutes away from my home; my reality. I always pause at the road just to see the sun peak from behind the buildings, noise of cars wisk past me as the city awakens. The walk to the diner across the street is the only time I have to myself on days like this. I traveled to North Austin only on a contract job. As soon as the month is over, I can leave this city and escape into the abyss of rural Texas. Seperating my life away from Austin helped me to make this pocket universe where time stopped only for thirty minutes. I glance out at the patio on the side of the building before I walk in. I see a man and woman holding each other’s hand as they talked in a low tone. I quickly walked in because it was loud and clear they wanted that area to themselves. I have never felt moved by a straight, or gay couple. I have gotten so good at blocking out my own problems that I never consider myself when thinking about couples, or love.  I just wonder what their lives were like entertwined. She seemed very polished, curly dark red hair, while the man was bald and in decent shape. Their shared serious expression, the way they are so closely tied together. It makes me question fate. “Steven, how are you?” The cute barista sings to me as I enter the diner. I pause taking in the smell of fresh roasted coffee, before I exhaled a “Hello” back to him. He was a middle aged white man dressed in casual clothing. His hair was peppered gray, and his build was in way better shape than mine. He may have been an athlete in his former life. I’m fifteen minutes in to my break and I finally get my coffee. I sit at the table right next to the line heading to the counter. I really just want to have a sure shot to the door when my break is over. I can see the baristas light up as they announce the next person who walks in.  I love to see the reaction of each peson as their name is being called, as they walk into the building hit with the aroma of fresh brewed coffee. Each experience defined by the name that was called, the hello in response varies, not to mention what kind of coffee or food they order. The same experience redefined over and over again. Our fates all entangled at the door: they will walk in to their greeting, enjoy their coffee, and eventually find a way out of the buiding back to their patterns that govern their everyday lives. 

* Phone Alarms *  Damn, time to head back to work.